Many Meetings
by Phantasmik
Summary: The first time Matt meets Raito, he’s standing outside a strip club. When he first meets him, he knows nothing.


**Many meetings**

The first time Matt meets Raito, he's standing outside a strip club. He's barely fifteen, and L's death is very prominent on everyone's minds. When he meets him, he knows nothing. He doesn't know the man is Kira, he doesn't even know that he was one of the main suspects on the Kira cases. Raito is just an exceptionally handsome college student walking down the street.

He even waves. Raito scoffs and does not return the gesture.

The second time he meets him, he is standing outside Raito's home. It's Japan, so it isn't very unusual for there to be people about your place of residence. All the same, Raito's eyes flick towards his form suspiciously, glancing over scrawny limbs and dainty little hands. They take in the cigarette dangling from his lips and the portable gaming device he has clutched in his hands. He narrows his eyes at the boy and walks away.

The third time they cross paths, Raito is standing in line to the movies with the woman Matt has been spying on. Matt is predictably with Mello. Matt can't remember if Mello had ever told him whether Kira had seen his face or not. Can't remember if anyone other than Raito's father had seen his face, but the moment Mello's eyes spot Raito and Misa, he pulls them from the line as fast as possible without causing a commotion.

Mello immediately runs into three or four people, shoving his way through them and leaving Matt to do the apologies. As Matt turns away from the aggravated family, his eyes meet Raito's. The way the older man's eyes are narrowed worries him.

The fourth time they meet, Matt is sitting atop a concrete wall in a nearby park. He doesn't know where Mello has run off to, the blonde had mentioned chocolate and ice cream Or was it chocolate ice-cream? and disappeared.

When Raito arrives to stand next to the wall, Matt hardly notices. He's playing his gameboy, tongue poking between his lips and legs swinging to an unknown rhythm. He only notices the other man is there when he clears his throat.

Seeing the man he had been spying on for days standing calmly beside him nearly gives him a heart attack that has nothing to do with Kira.

There is a strange gleam in his eyes, a gleam he had only ever seen before on L.

_You've been following me._

Matt scoffs and lights up a cigarette, blowing smoke at the other's perfect face.

_Me? Follow you? Why would I do that? _

Raito just blinks at him, a smirk curling around the corners of his lips.

Matt shrugs and turns back to his game. And just like that, Raito grabs him by the chin, jerking him around to kiss him. It's not an unpleasant kiss as kisses go. He supposes with Raito's looks he has had plenty of time to learn. Perhaps these very same lips had once touched the untouchable L's.

They must make quite the pair, he thinks. Impeccably dressed detective in his pressed suit making out with the riffraff teenage American in a park. It's an odd picture, and he hopes Mello isn't nearby to witness it.

When Raito pulls away, Matt feels a little breathless, panicked and terrified but with a trace of curiosity lurking about in the depths of his mind.

Raito smirks at him and leaves a piece of paper nestled in the palm of his hand when he leaves.

The fifth, sixth, and seventh times they meet are all arranged. Matt buys a new phone to use when he calls Raito, and they often call to meet each other.

These occasions pass by in quiet intensity, gasps and groans of pleasure, and sometimes even laughter.

He stops counting after the eighth meeting, and focuses only on the more minute details, like the way Raito's eyes gleam when he hears Matt moan, and the way Raito moans his name and thrusts deeper into him, and the way he sometimes mouths different names against his skin as he takes him against his kitchen counter.

Sometimes he wonders about what this relationship says about his mental health, wonders whether or not it counts as masochism to sleep with one of your primary suspects in a case of a madman who has murdered more than anyone can count.

He wills himself not to care, wills himself not to think about just what fucking Raito means to him. He isn't too sure himself, really. What Raito is to him never really matters. They are comrades, lovers, enemies, strangers and friends. Whatever they are to each other, it really doesn't matter in the end.

The final time they see each other is the morning before Matt's death. They are in one of the numerous hotels they visit when Misa is at Raito's home and Matt is struggling to pull on his boots, hopping around on one foot while trying to fasten his goggles at the same time.

He hears the movement as the other male gets to his feet, snickering gently behind one hand.

Raito wraps his arms around Matt's waist, effectively halting Matt's battle with his boots. Raito lays a head against his shoulder and mumbles strange words into his skin. Matt frowns, glancing at the other man and reminding him that he is in a hurry. When Raito reluctantly pulls away, Matt finally pulls on his boots and vest, leaning down for a goodbye kiss. And with whispered words of departure and promises to call to set up their next meeting, Matt leaves.

They never do have that next meeting. Raito watches as Matt's face is broadcasted across Japan, face bruised and bloodied and goggles obscuring eyes that will never open again. He feels betrayal and grief and anger over the loss, a sadness that seems ridiculous to feel given the circumstances.

When Matt dies, he has only one regret.


End file.
